


the syntax of things

by beamtime



Series: bro we are kissing now [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Explicit Sexual Content, Humor, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Romance, and they were ROOMMATES, i lived in america for four years that's why i'm here, modern free verse poetry, that's my tag for the asian-american college experience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:40:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21724957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beamtime/pseuds/beamtime
Summary: Lucas's roommate nearly trips back over a pile of books as he backs out of the tiny closet. "Hi! I'm Mark." Mark steadies himself, straightening his sweater with a sheepish smile before holding out his hand.Cute, Lucas immediately thinks as he shakes Mark's hand and introduces himself, but that isn't anything out of the ordinary. He thinks a lot of people are cute.A perennial flirt, Renjun calls him, nose wrinkled with disapproval, but Lucas can't help it that he's built like a tree and wants to see the best in people. Mark's best comes with wide shining eyes and a small pink mouth, lower lip sucked shyly in between his teeth with worry."Are you okay with being on top?" Mark asks.
Relationships: Mark Lee/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas
Series: bro we are kissing now [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620385
Comments: 37
Kudos: 588





	the syntax of things

**Author's Note:**

> since feeling is first  
> who pays any attention  
> to the syntax of things  
> will never wholly kiss you;  
> —e.e. cummings
> 
> warnings/enticements: mutual masturbation, intercrural sex/thigh-fucking

When Lucas sees a figure sitting on the bench outside of his residential hall, his grip on his welcome packet tightens, wrinkling the pamphlet's glossy pages.

"Hi, my name is Doyoung," the boy says, beaming as he stands up. "I'll be one of the seniors living in Rosenthal Hall with you!"

"Oh," Lucas says, trying to mask his disappointment as he shakes Doyoung's hand and introduces himself. He knows it's silly when there are at least fifty other people living in the same entryway, but he's been anxious to meet his future roommate ever since he got his acceptance letter. He's watched _Love O2O_ about a hundred times (rough estimate, it's not like Lucas is keeping track on his Notes app), which Renjun blames for inspiring his "wildly unrealistic expectations for campus life." Renjun is in the year below Lucas though and only now getting college application packets in the mail. How would he know about the lifelong friendships and gamer teams forged during one's bright college years?

Doyoung leads Lucas through the entrance and up the stairs. "Your roommate's already in," he says when they reach Lucas's room on the third floor and Lucas unlocks his door with fluttering anticipation. Doyoung must sense Lucas's nervous energy because he lingers in the doorway until Lucas manages to convince him that he'll be fine by himself for now. "If you need any help, I'll just be outside," Doyoung tells him, seriously, before finally leaving.

Back in June, Lucas had received a letter with his residential hall assignment and instructions on how to log-in to his shiny, new university email. He had immediately messaged his future roommate and waited through a week of radio silence from _mark.m.lee@smu.edu_ before turning to other channels. With Renjun's help, he managed to find _Mark Lee (Vancouver, Canada)_ on Facebook. Mark's page had been worryingly blank except for a few blurry photos of various watermelons, but Lucas had swallowed his resolve and sent a friend request along with a series of rambling messages. The response he'd gotten after two days of anxious waiting had been friendly, if a little stilted.

> _Dear Lucas,_
> 
> _It's nice to "meet" you, too. Sorry that I didn't respond to your email before! It took me awhile to figure out how to set it up, hahaha._  
>  _Yeah, I'd be happy to bring a mini fridge from home, no problem!_  
>    
>  _Sincerely,_  
>  _Mark Lee_

The door creaks ominously when Lucas enters the room, but inside the walls are bright and clean. The promised fridge is already plugged into the corner of the common room, a handful of brightly colored alphabet magnets and a memo-pad stuck to its door. There's also, inexplicably, a giant blue bean-bag sitting beside the door on the other side of the room, and Lucas tentatively side-steps it before pushes the other door open.

"Hello," he calls out, hovering in the doorway at the edge of the small explosion on the bedroom floor.

Lucas's roommate nearly trips back over a pile of books as he backs out of the tiny closet. "Hi! I'm Mark." Mark steadies himself, straightening his sweater with a sheepish smile before holding out his hand.

 _Cute_ , Lucas immediately thinks as he shakes Mark's hand and introduces himself, but that isn't anything out of the ordinary. He thinks a lot of people are cute. _A perennial flirt_ , Renjun calls him, nose wrinkled with disapproval, but Lucas can't help it that he's built like a tree and wants to see the best in people. Mark's best comes with wide shining eyes and a small pink mouth, lower lip sucked shyly in between his teeth with worry.

"Are you okay with being on top?" Mark asks.

Lucas chokes. "Sorry?"

"Top bunk," Mark clarifies. "I would have waited to ask, but it's my first time sharing a bunk bed and being on top was…" He coughs, blushing. "It was actually kind of scary?"

"Yeah, that's cool, yeah." Mark's face breaks out into a relieved smile over Lucas's stumbling words and Lucas startles at the sound of Mark's laughter ringing in the small room. It helps lift the cloud of Lucas's lingering anxieties and he grins back at Mark.

Mark's parents are also in town, having booked a nearby hotel for the weekend to help him settle in. They stop by with a bag full of snacks, which they happily share with Lucas when he volunteers to carry up the last of Mark's boxes ( _books (poetry)/reading light/towels_ ) from Mr. Lee's sedan. Mr. Lee had clapped Lucas on the back and Mrs. Lee had complimented Lucas's good looks, ordering him in a motherly fashion to join them for dinner at their hotel. Mark had hovered in the background in the meantime, eyes wide behind his round, wire-framed glasses.

"Thanks for everything today," Mark tells Lucas when they're walking back to their dorm. There's still a bit of summer daylight behind them, casting long shadows that stretch out across the pavement before their feet. "I probably would have passed out trying to carry all my stuff up those stairs by myself."

"No problem!" Lucas puffs out his chest and flexes. "Gotta put these guns to use somehow."

He'd meant it as a joke, but instead of laughing Mark just scratches the back of his neck, earnest. "Seriously, thanks, dude." Mark's pace falters and Lucas matches his steps, weaving closer to Mark until just their shadows are touching, overlapping at the sides. He hesitates for a second before gently knocking his shoulder against Mark's, like he would with a friend back home. Mark looks up, startled, before grinning shyly.

"I hope my parents weren't too…" Mark flaps his hands.

"No, no, they seemed really nice!" Over the course of dinner, it had become obvious where Mark got his love of books and his smile from. Lucas had heard of only half of the writers Mark and his parents had talked about, but the Lees didn't seem to mind. Mark had leaned in closer, head slightly bowed with his ear turned toward Lucas and away from the buzz of the restaurant, when Lucas had mentioned a poem he'd managed to remember from IB English. "It was fun," Lucas adds, sincere. Mark makes a teasing noise of disbelief, but he looks pleased.

They're both stifling yawns by the time they're climbing the stairs leading up to their suite, so Lucas proposes that they leave organizing the mess in the common room for tomorrow.

"Good night," Mark says, eyes already half-lidded and sleepy, when he returns from the bathroom. Lucas waves jauntily at him from the upper bunk and Mark smiles, nose scrunching above the delicate curve of his mouth. It's the last thing Lucas sees before the lights turn off.

Lucas wakes up early the next morning to the unmistakable sound of the creaking door. Groaning, he turns over to bury his face between his pillow and the wall. Lucas usually sleeps like a rock, but here, in a strange bed with the morning light breaking through a crack in the curtains and falling across his face at an unfamiliar angle, his senses seem to prickle at every little sound.

"Oh, shit." Lucas hears the muffled whisper from below, followed by a thump. That's enough to pull him fully out of sleep.

"Mark?" he calls out, rolling to the edge of his mattress. His muscles scream in protest.

"Sorry! Sorry." Mark's head pops up over the railing, hair fluffy like a dark cloud over his round, wire-rimmed glasses. He has a towel slung over his shoulder, toothbrush and toothpaste in hand. "Did I wake you up?"

Lucas sags, relieved to see Mark unharmed. "It's okay," he says, yawning as he reaches for his phone to check the time. The numbers barely register in his fuzzy brain and he frowns, burying his face into his pillow to clear his head in the comforting cotton void.

"It's still pretty early," Mark says, apologetic. Lucas thinks he feels something gently patting his shoulder, but he can't muster the energy to turn over again. "I'll be back soon if you want to grab breakfast together, go back to sleep." The fresh smell of mint blurs into the edges of Lucas's consciousness, and Lucas obediently floats away.

Lucas is properly awake by the time Mark returns, which means that he's pulled on a clean shirt and his favorite pair of jeans, and managed to finger-comb his hair into looking a little more purposefully disheveled. Waiting alone in the empty room makes Lucas antsy, but Mark had seemed so friendly yesterday. Surely, he wouldn't lie?

The door creaks open again to announce Mark's return while Lucas is idly scrolling through IKEA's couch selection, leaning back in one of the rather unwieldy and uncomfortable wooden chairs supplied by their dorm. Mark had assured him that they could share his bean-bag monstrosity, but Lucas isn't sure if it can fit all of his legs.

"Hey, man, sorry I'm late." Mark looks neatly put together, a surprise given this morning's early chaos. "Breakfast?"

Lucas's growling stomach answers for him and they head down to the dining hall.

"Is this heaven," Lucas breathes when he sees the wall of cereal dispensers as soon as they enter the kitchen and Mark snickers. He still grabs a bowl of Fruit Loops though before they split up to explore the various food options. The large metal serving tray full of scrambled eggs looks dubious, but college is supposed to be a time for adventure. Lucas takes a large, steaming spoonful and heads out to the dining area.

"That's… a lot of egg," Mark comments, eyes wide, when he sees Lucas's tray piled high with food. He's nabbed a booth near the back of the dining hall and has been obviously waiting for Lucas to join him, the food on his tray untouched. Lucas hurriedly gestures for him to eat and they both dig in.

"Where'd you go this morning?" Lucas asks, shoveling a spoonful of sugary cereal into his mouth. He had added a quick sprinkle of Honey Bunches of Oats as an afterthought, which he's pretty sure makes it healthy now.

"Oh! I went to church with my parents before they had to leave," Mark explains. "Sorry for waking you up so early!"

"Nah, it's no big deal." Lucas stretches back, scratching his belly. His stomach feels a lot happier with food in it instead of the fluttering butterflies of anxiety. "We should do something about the door though… maybe get some grease for the hinges?"

"Where do you think we can find some?" Mark asks. He pulls his phone out, biting his lip as he slowly taps against the screen with just his right index finger, delicately crooked to type before pressing heavily against the search button. Lucas watches, fascinated, until Mark calls out his name. "Lucas?"

They spend a few minutes bent over Mark's phone, trying to orient themselves.

"There's the campus mini-mart," Mark suggests, pointing at a corner of the zoomed-in map. It's nearly a straight shot through the student center plaza and they find it with minimal angst once they finish with breakfast.

"What are we looking for... WD-40, or something like that?" Lucas asks as a bell on the store's front door chimes above them.

"I think so," Mark agrees absently, crouching down to inspect the bottom shelves. His mouth is pinched with concentration.

There isn't any WD-40 the cashier at the front register informs them in a dead-eyed monotone after Lucas and Mark spend ten minutes scouring the shelves of the tiny shop.

"Yo, dude, what if we just, like, lube it up?" Lucas finally suggests, laughing as he holds up a tube of KY Jelly for Mark to see. Mark trips, falling into a display of protein bars, and Lucas abandons the lube to the wayside to rescue Mark from sudden death by over-priced granola.

"Oh my god," Mark says when he's finally upright. For a distracted moment, Lucas wonders if it's okay for an angel to take the Lord's name in vain. "You can't!" Mark sputters, oblivious to Lucas's internal crisis.

"Yeah, you're right," Lucas sighs. Mark is so smart. "This water-soluble stuff would probably just dry right off."

"Lucas!" Mark's voice drops down to an urgent whisper as he pulls Lucas close. "We're still teens!" he hisses.

Lucas looks at Mark and then at the KY Jelly in his hand. He looks back at Mark. "Yes?" he finally says, unsure what Mark's point is.

"That's for…" Mark trails off and Lucas waits for him to continue. "It's—!" Lucas frowns in confusion. Has Mark never…?

"What do you use when you…?" Lucas gestures vaguely with his hands to illustrate. He's almost proud of himself for managing to be discreet (Renjun is always telling Lucas to think before he speaks, that not everyone is as loud as Lucas is) when he notices Mark gaping like a fish. Lucas reflects on his question — and _oh_. Maybe Mark… didn't. Doesn't. Which would be fine, of course, different strokes for different folks. Or no strokes, in this case. Lucas isn't one to judge. "It's cool if you don't, uh, you know," he tells Mark, trying to convey as much sincerity and understanding as he can.

"I do—!" Lucas blinks at Mark's sudden outburst. "I just use, um, vaseline," Mark says before clamping his mouth shut. Lucas watches the flush of color spreading across Mark's cheeks to his ears and down the back of his neck, under the collar of his shirt. God. How many of these little polo shirts does Mark own?

"Vaseline's good," Lucas says. "Great. Cheap, too," he adds, thumb smoothing over the corner of the price tag curling up from the back of the bottle of KY Jelly. The mini-mart apparently charges a significant mark-up on branded lube, which seems a bit short-sighted for a campus with a vested interest in the health and comfort of its students.

Mark makes a small pained noise at Lucas's ramblings. Almost like a groan, Lucas thinks, before he stops thinking at all. "So… lube?" he asks, instead. The creaking is pretty loud and Lucas has always been a problem-solver. "For the door," he clarifies, when Mark still doesn't answer.

"That's fine," Mark finally says, voice tight with mortification.

They also end up grabbing a box of q-tips when Lucas wonders aloud if they need something to apply the lube ("Why not just use our hands?" Mark had asked dubiously before coming to the same realization as Lucas and flushing anew), plus some snacks because flaming hot Cheetos are the bomb. The cashier watches them with a speculative gleam in her eye as she rings up their purchase, and Lucas hurriedly pockets his change.

The door to their suite is just as creaky as ever when they finally return, successfully escaping the judgment of bored mini-mart employees. Mark rolls up his sleeves, looking oddly determined. "Let's do this," he says, bouncing on his heels. Having a concrete task before him seems to have helped him overcome most of his embarrassment, although his ears are still tinged pink when he squeezes the clear gel and delicately spreads it across the bottom hinge with one of the q-tips.

Lucas doesn't know the proper protocol for applying KY Jelly onto literal hardware so he quietly follows suit with the middle hinge, glancing down occasionally to observe Mark's neat motions. Their eyes meet and Lucas freezes. The corner of his mouth starts to twitch after a long second and then they both lose it.

"You look," Mark gasps between fits of laughter, crumpling onto the floor. "You look so weird!"

"Bro, so do you!" Mark snickers at the wounded expression on Lucas's face and Lucas pouts. "You can do the last hinge," he says, pointing at the top of the door.

"No, no, you look super serious. Hard at work." Mark breaks off into giggles again, nose scrunching. "Please do it? C'mon," Mark wheedles. Lucas turns his face away, pouting, but Mark chases after him. He shuffles around Lucas on his knees to catch Lucas's eye, and Lucas finds himself caving all too easily.

"Just this once," he says as sternly as he can.

"It's nice that you're so tall," Mark remarks before diligently going back to working the clear gel into the bottom hinge.

Lucas glances down. "I think you're fine the way you are."

"Are you calling me small?" Mark stands abruptly, going up on his tiptoes. "Look, I'm as tall as you."

Mark's head is tipped back, chin pointing up into the air. Lucas contemplates bending down for a moment to meet him eye to eye, but his stomach butterflies make an unexpected resurgence. Mentally squashing them, he reaches up to brush his fingertips against the ceiling.

"Show-off," Mark says, but he doesn't sound terribly put-out. He does bump Lucas in the shoulder, much like Lucas had done to him the other night, so Lucas takes it as a win.

Doyoung invites them for a mid-week study break at the Korean-American Student Society house, two blocks away from their residential hall. There's a good mix of other first years wandering around just as lost as Lucas and Mark, and of more relaxed looking upperclassmen, including some friends of Doyoung's who aren't even in KASS. Perhaps 'frenemies' is a better term, considering how Doyoung bickers with Ten and Yuta every time they offer one of their "pearls of wisdom." Still, it's a nice feeling to have someone to look out for them and to give them tips like which professors are the most approachable and which courses have an inhuman (and inhumane) amount of reading. The free pizza is also a definite bonus and Lucas inhales five slices after making sure everyone else has gotten their share.

Lucas and Mark get close to one of the other freshmen in their entryway, Dejun, who lives two floors above them and is in the same nine a.m. human biology lecture for his gen ed requirements. Dejun happily agrees to walk with them to class. When he promptly knocks on their door at a quarter to, Lucas still needs to stock up on his daily ration of protein bars, so Mark ushers Dejun into their room to try out the bean bag.

"Your room looks nice," Dejun says politely, nodding at Mark's full bookshelves. That's probably the most interesting thing in their otherwise standard dormitory common room, but Mark beams at the compliment. "Wait, is that…" Dejun's eyebrows knit together as he sits up in the bean bag with surprising grace. He points to the object in question in the bottom corner of Mark's bookcase. "Why do you have—"

Mark bursts into a coughing fit and Lucas springs into action. He snatches the forgotten bottle of lube and tosses it into the bedroom, closing the door shut behind him. "Don't worry about it," he tries to say as flippantly as he can, chest heaving. Dejun opens his mouth, looks between the two of them, and then snaps his mouth shut again.

Their walk to the biology lab is marked by drawn out silence punctuated by Lucas's occasional observations on the campus wildlife (squirrels), random passersby (more squirrels), and, in a desperate last ditch effort, the architectural style of the buildings along the way. That manages to catch Dejun's attention enough to shatter the awkward air between the three of them.

 _Thanks_ , Mark mouths to Lucas from behind Dejun's back when Dejun begins rhapsodizing about collegiate gothic revival. Lucas winks at him.

 _No problem_ , he mouths back in response. He'll have to find a better hiding place for the KY Jelly when he gets back, but that's a problem for later. Right now, he needs to capture a quick Snapchat of Dejun attempting to climb up a statued wall.

Despite his technological impairments (gaming and Snapchat are both definite negatives), Mark turns out to be the perfect roommate. They have other differences, of course, but none of it matters as much Lucas had feared it would before the start of school. Mark is almost always busy with study groups, a gig as one of the part-time writing tutors, and the dozen of organizations that he signed up for at the activities fair. After Mark's third tentative refusal to join Lucas in his nighttime adventures, Lucas realizes that the flood of frat parties welcoming freshmen to campus don't hold quite the same appeal for Mark. Mark is always awake, though, when Lucas gets back, which means that Lucas doesn't have to feel self-conscious about how noisy he's being as he tipsily stumbles through the door (the hinges themselves are beautifully silent). Mark even laughs at Lucas's silly stories on those late nights, loud and so infectious that Lucas continues smiling goofily back at Mark even when he's already forgotten his own joke in the haze of alcohol.

The best thing though is when Mark curls up next to Lucas on his oversized bean-bag chair, waiting for Lucas to pull up his Netflix, their thighs pressed against each other. The bean-bag, Lucas finds, is indeed big enough to fit the both of them, although their legs end up inevitably tangled. It's not really a big deal. Mark doesn't seem to notice and Lucas definitely doesn't mind.

"So you like him," says Renjun, appearing as a blurry pixelated figure on Lucas's laptop screen. The days are getting shorter and the nights cooler, but the sun still burns fiery red in the early autumn afternoon, rays of light slanting through their third floor windows. Lucas adjusts the angle of his screen so it's no longer catching the glare. "And he might like you."

"No," Lucas says. It comes out as more of a prolonged whine and the wobbly computer Renjun raises his eyebrows, or at least Lucas thinks that's what he does. Damn the school's slow wi-fi.

"You've been cuddling and watching romantic dramas."

Lucas avoids Renjun's incredulous gaze, choosing to study the foliage outside. "That's just… friend stuff," he protests, lamely.

"Oh, really? My mistake," Renjun scoffs. He's never sat through a single episode of _Love O2O_ with Lucas, even during the brief period that they had dated before realizing they were better off as friends.

Renjun, Lucas concludes, is a terrible friend.

"Anyway, it's almost dinnertime, I have to get changed."

"Aren't you just going to your dining hall?" Renjun asks, sounding affronted at the thought of being tossed aside for over-steamed vegetables. "What's the big deal?"

Lucas winces. "We're going out," he admits and Renjun definitely raises his eyebrows this time. Lucas doesn't even need to see it clearly to know. "As friends," he adds, with heavy emphasis on the last word.

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know." Renjun's eyebrow climbs higher and Lucas buries his face in his hands. "He said he wanted it to be a surprise!"

"I'm hanging up," says Renjun in disgust, before hanging up. Lucas shuts his laptop with a huff just as his phone chimes with an incoming text.

 _Have fun at your """dinner"""_ , it reads. Feeling petty, Lucas responds with a snake emoji before asking if he should wear a collared shirt or a more casual sweater.

Dinner turns out to be at a tiny restaurant off the beaten path, past the block of specialty shops and three competing Chinese restaurants that the campus's Asian cultural groups rotate through for events.

When Lucas asks for the fifth time where they're going (and if they've gotten lost), Mark punches his shoulder. Lucas pretends to stagger, clutching his arm, but Mark stands strong against his theatrics. "I told you, it's a surprise!" Mark says and Lucas pouts, but lets it go, straightening his dark blue button-down.

"We're here," Mark finally announces a few minutes later, stopping in front of a small storefront with barely any signage, windows blocked off by thin blinds. Lucas pauses as a wave of familiar scents washes over him when Mark holds the door open for him.

"Is this…?"

"I asked Ten if he knew of any good Thai restaurants in the area and he swore by this one." Mark tilts his head toward the still open door and Lucas's feet finally remember to move.

They get ushered to a cramped table in the back corner and Lucas charms the waitress with the kind of smile that would always get him out of trouble with his aunts and a well-practiced order.

The food isn't bad, it's just… different. Lucas is suddenly hit by an overwhelming wave of longing. He misses his mom's cooking, the way she sings in the kitchen while Lucas helps to set the table when his dad gets home from work. He even misses his little brother, who always steals clothes from Lucas's closet.

"How is it?" Mark asks. He's playing with his empty straw wrapper, tying it into knots.

"It's great," Lucas says. Mark peeks up at Lucas, shy, and Lucas swallows roughly. "How's your curry?" he asks.

"It's good! Want a bite?" Mark pushes his plate toward Lucas, who shakes his head. His eyes feel dry and hot all of a sudden, and he's not sure if he can handle the spice.

Mark has another KASS meeting to head off to after dinner, so Lucas heads back to their room alone. His throat feels scratchy and there's a throbbing headache forming behind his eyes. He'll probably feel better after a nap, he decides and climbs into his bunk. It feels like he's had his eyes closed for half a second when there's a sudden clattering sound from the common room.

"Lucas?" Mark's voice rings out in the dark, without warning now that the door hinges have been properly greased. "You there? I forgot my laptop."

Lucas presses the heels of his palms over his eyelids and takes a deep shuddering breath to steady himself.

"Lucas?" Mark calls out again. His head pokes up over the ladder and Lucas retreats further into his duvet. "Dude, I thought maybe you'd gone out or something — are you okay?"

"Yeah, just not feeling well," Lucas says. He winces at how rough his voice sounds.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

Lucas shakes his head. "Sorry," he says. Mark ducks down and reemerges with one of those plastic wrapped Kleenex packets, which he slides across Lucas's mattress. The tissues are a bit dusty, probably because Mark has never needed to cry in public about anime while walking tipsily along High Street from a frat party, but Lucas gratefully blows his nose and suppresses the urge to sneeze all over Mark's perfect sweater-vest.

"I'm making you late for your meeting," Lucas sniffles. He struggles to sit up, but Mark shushes him and pushes him back down with a hand over his chest. At any other time, Lucas might have been more excited about this development in their friendship. Right now, Lucas just feels full of snot.

"It's okay, you know —" Mark tucks the edge of Lucas's blanket beneath his shoulder "—to cry. We could just stay in for tonight. Watch more of that drama you like." He folds his arms out over the edge of the railing and rests his head on top of his hands. He's so cute. Lucas blows his nose again and balls up the used tissues in his hands.

" _Love O2O_ ," Lucas supplies automatically before biting his cheek. "Don't you have a meeting?"

"It's just Doyoung and Joy arguing about the budget again, it's not important," Mark says, rolling his eyes. Club budgets sound important, but the impish look on Mark's face forces a wet bubble of laughter out of Lucas. Mark smiles, eyes slitted with satisfaction. "Move over," he orders, lifting his head and pushing up on his arms, swinging his leg over the rail.

"But you're afraid of the top bunk," Lucas begins to protest.

Mark narrows his eyes and Lucas hastily scoots back toward the wall to give him space to climb in next to Lucas on the narrow bed. "You better make sure I don't fall off," Mark warns.

Lucas opens up his blanket burrito and tucks Mark inside. He's about to pull his arm back, but Mark wriggles into the open space, curling up to fit against the curve of Lucas's body. Their faces are almost close enough to touch now and Lucas lets his arm hang over Mark's side in a half-hug. "Is this safe enough?" Lucas asks. Mark nods, hands closed into small fists in the space between them and Lucas feels another wave of sour, curdling guilt. "Sorry," Lucas repeats.

Mark frowns and it makes Lucas's heart ache in a different way. "It's okay to cry around me. You don't have to tell me what's going on, if you don't want to, but… We're friends, you know?"

Lucas nods. "I know," he says. Mark looks searchingly at him and Lucas meets his gaze, unwavering. The worry line between Mark's eyebrows persists and Lucas tamps down the urge to raise his hand, to press his against the wrinkle and smooth it out. "I'll always tell the truth to you," he promises instead.

They finally come down from Lucas's bunk when his belly starts growling again. Lucas orders a sub and a large order of garlic fries while Mark sets up Lucas's laptop on a chair in their common room, in front of the beanbag.

Having seen _Love O2O_ more times than he can count, Lucas sits back and watches Mark's reactions out of the corner of his eye instead. Mark tends to lean progressively forward, absorbed in the dialogue, until something surprises him enough to send him flying back in an explosive fit of laughter. He's almost hit his head on the wall behind them a few times already. Lucas sneaks his arm behind Mark's shoulders.

Mark's brow is furrowed with concentration as he watches Xiao Nai do a lay-up on the basketball court in his full gamer regalia. His fingers falter blindly at the edge of the bag of fries and Lucas nudges it closer to him.

"Thanks, bro." Mark turns to him and holds out the grease stained bag to Lucas. When Lucas shakes his head (his throat might be feeling a little tight at Bei Weiwei's romantic melancholy), Mark shrugs and sits back again, sliding naturally into Lucas's side with the bag of fries still in his lap. Lucas swallows roughly and shifts his arm so that Mark can settle in more comfortably, stomach turning with the slow burning knowledge that Renjun is right after all.

As a KASS board member, Mark makes sure to show up at most of the group's events, which means that Lucas tags along if he's got nothing better to do. Maybe Lucas's priorities need adjusting, but he usually ends up going. Mark and the promise of free beer (KASS more than lives up to its name) are both strong incentives, even if Lucas might be in strict denial about which ranks higher.

It's rarer for Mark to follow Lucas to one of the Chinese-American Students' Association parties, but Mark seems determined to go with Lucas to the upcoming Mid-Autumn Festival. He even adds a note to his calendar above his desk, the date circled in bright green ink as he crosses off the days, waggling his eyebrows meaningfully. Lucas, for his part, makes sure they've both RSVP-ed accordingly to the Facebook event.

Mark has the bad luck of a Friday evening discussion section so Lucas heads first to a pre-game at Ten's apartment (somehow, Ten always manages to be at the center of activity). Dejun immediately calls out to Lucas to even out the beer pong tournament brackets, but he's distracted more than usual, with one eye to the door. By the time Lucas's phone buzzes in his pocket, he's already flushed and a little tipsy.

"Mark! Maaaaark," Lucas yells, exuberant, when Mark suddenly appears at his side. He stumbles over and Mark catches him with a small, " _whoa_ ," when he trips over his own feet. "You're a good friend," Lucas proclaims to Mark's forehead. Mark gently helps set him upright and Lucas looks down, bemused by the change in altitude. Mark's cheeks look pink under the warm lighting, just like his mouth.

"Thanks," Mark's pink mouth says and Lucas feels a fluttering deep in his stomach.

"Best," Lucas hiccups, "best friend."

Mark nods solemnly. "I'm your best friend."

"Noooo," Lucas corrects. "I'm _your_ best friend."

Dejun frowns, concentrating through the haze of probably one too many soju bombs in the last couple of hours. "Isn't that the same thing?"

Lucas shakes his head emphatically. It's different — Lucas likes Mark _more_ than a best friend. He takes in a deep breath to say so but Ten cuts in, amused.

"Yeah, you're each other's best friends, now go!" He pushes them out the door and Lucas loses the end of that thought.

Mark hangs onto Lucas's sleeve, sticking close even after they get to the Chinese Cultural Center and despite the occasional jostling from their friends. It makes Lucas feel all warm and tingly inside, stomach butterflies alight.

Someone bumps into Mark as they're waiting in line for moon cakes, causing his hand to slip off Lucas's arm. Lucas immediately reaches for it, catching hold and lacing their fingers together.

"Cute," someone coos, and Lucas turns around, head spinning at the sudden motion. It's one of the pretty juniors who Lucas has seen occasionally at KASS parties, arguing with Doyoung and doting on Mark, often at the same time. She pushes a couple of moon cakes at Lucas and pats the back of Mark's head fondly. "Don't forget to hydrate!" Lucas clutches their newfound goods to his chest in a daze.

"You okay?" Mark asks. He squeezes Lucas's hand. It's gentle, with barely any force behind it, or maybe it just feels that way because Mark is so small next to Lucas. He lifts their hands wonderingly.

"Cute," he echoes. Mark tugs their arms back down to their sides, flushing, but he doesn't take his hand away. It's amazing and terrible, and Lucas wants it never to end.

"Oh, god," Lucas moans at lunch the next day, burying his face in his arms to hide himself from the light. Across the table, Dejun delicately takes a sip of tea, somehow managing to look wholly put together and deeply hungover at the same time. He'd even made it to class that morning at nine a.m. sharp with Mark while Lucas had snuggled deeper into his duvet and dramatically told them to go on without him.

A cool hand slides across the back of Lucas's neck and Lucas turns his head to see Mark sliding into the seat next to him with a full tray of food. "How's the headache?"

Lucas moans pitifully. His only saving grace is that if he dies like this, he'll be spared from taking their bio midterm.

"You can copy my notes," Mark says as if reading Lucas's mind, pulling out his notebook from his backpack and holding it out to Lucas.

Mark is an angel, a saint. "I love you, dude," Lucas says, grabbing onto it like a lifeline. The neon green cover is honestly a bit painful on Lucas's eyes, but their professor's powerpoint slides are impossible to decode on their own. Mark has even used color-coded sticky tabs to separate his notes by week. Lucas could kiss him right now.

"Keep it in your pants, Wong," Ten hoots from the table behind them and Lucas jumps up to silence him, nearly knocking over Dejun's mug in the commotion.

Mark is surprisingly innocent about certain things — he laughs at dick jokes a beat too late, taking that extra moment to puzzle through the phallic implications with his nose scrunched up, first in confusion and then with scandalized delight.

"I can't let Mark find out," Lucas tells Renjun miserably during their next scheduled Skype session. Renjun nods along absently, fingers tapping away furiously at his keyboard. "Renjun?"

"Oh, were you saying something new?" Renjun asks, eyes refocusing. "I figured since you were just discussing your crush for the _thousandth_ time, I could work on some other stuff, like the personal essay that is going to decide the entire course of my life and that I can't seem to make _personal_ enough."

"Sorry," Lucas says, meek. Now that he's looking more carefully, he can see the tension in Renjun's jaw and the puffiness under his eyes like he's pulled an all-nighter. It had been easy for Lucas to assume that things were the same as always at home, and that Renjun had been doing as well as always. But Renjun has always worried more about school and his future, even when he tested up into more advanced classes and still managed to beat Lucas on the same tests. "Renjun…"

"You can confess and maybe get rejected, or you can stay as you are," Renjun continues over Lucas, "but you won't know how he feels unless you try." Lucas nods, chastened, and Renjun's voice softens. "You've never been one to run away from things. I know I said life isn't like dramas, but it can't hurt to be honest." Renjun pauses. "Like Xiao Nai going up to Bei Weiwei at his basketball game."

Lucas's jaw drops open. "Huang Renjun," he exclaims. "Did you watch _Love O2O_ for me?"

"I may have read up the plot on Weibo," Renjun admits, begrudging.

"You're a good man, Huang Renjun."

Renjun rolls his eyes. "I know."

"A wise one, too," Lucas says, "a prince among men." Renjun flicks him off on screen and Lucas laughs. "I'm sorry I was being a bad friend," he adds more seriously, voice low. Renjun shakes off Lucas's apology.

"It's fine, you're a selfish jerk but I, being the generous person that I am, forgive you," he says, sniffing haughtily, which is how Lucas knows they're okay.

Still, Lucas knows that's not enough. "I'm not the best writer but if you need a fresh set of eyes to read your essay, I'm here."

"I was going to make you do that anyway," Renjun says, impishly. "I'm putting you to work as emotional compensation."

"I knew you only wanted me for my body," Lucas jokes, leaning back in his chair and flexing, when the door suddenly opens. Lucas straightens up with a clatter, swearing after he bangs his knee against his desk. Just because he's finally resolved to tell Mark how he feels, it doesn't mean that he's ready to do it right now — he hasn't had time to prepare anything romantic, or even to put on a clean shirt. "I thought you were coming back late today?"

Mark speaks slowly, still caught in the doorway. "My workshop partner needed to reschedule." His eyes dart from Lucas's bare arms and chest to his laptop screen where Renjun is staring back at him with undisguised interest. Mark reddens. "I didn't mean to interrupt, sorry, I didn't know that you were… that you had…" His voice trails away and it takes a moment for Lucas to realize what Mark means, too overwhelmed by his own mixed up emotions. He bolts up, banging his knees again. "I'll come back later," Mark says.

"No, I'm not — I mean, we're not — Mark!" Lucas watches in consternation as Mark disappears.

"What are you waiting for? Go after him," Renjun hisses when Lucas is still staring at the door and holding onto his stinging kneecaps. "And put a sweater on, your white one."

"Right… right!" Lucas frantically begins digging through his closet.

"You can thank me later," Renjun says, smirking, before ending the call.

Lucas contemplates sending another snake emoji to Renjun once he's pulled that exact sweater on over his head, but that'll just be another thirty seconds wasted when he could be on his way to Mark. Lucas knows exactly where to find him, too, down to the exact study carrel in the art library, next to the weird picture books on Soviet Constructivist architecture.

Mark looks up from his noticeably empty desk with surprise when Lucas slips into the carrel next to his. "Lucas, what are you doing here?"

Lucas takes a deep breath that sets off the butterflies in his stomach. He's somehow both cold and sweaty from running across the campus with just a sweater on and no coat. "I need to talk to you about something."

"Okay," Mark says, blinking. The butterflies fluttering inside Lucas are like a storm now.

"I probably should have told you earlier," he continues hesitantly, and Mark's hands tighten in his lap. Lucas's heart squeezes on cue. Mark probably doesn't even realize he's doing it either, or that he's biting his lip again, anxious and a little bit hurt. It gives Lucas the burst of courage that he needs. "I'm in love with you," he says.

The hurt look on Mark's face gets wiped away entirely by confusion. "But that boy — you weren't wearing clothes!"

There's a choking cough from the study carrel across the way and Lucas pokes his head up. "I was just shirtless in our common room, it's chill," he calls out. Mark tugs him back down, face red, and Lucas ignores the second coughing fit behind them. "I was getting advice from a friend on how to confess to you," he tells Mark more quietly.

"To me?" Mark's voice is a whisper.

"I've liked you for, like, forever," Lucas admits. "I was afraid to tell you before but… if there's anyone I want to be honest with, it's you."

Mark is silent for a long, unbearable moment. Lucas holds his gaze steady, although with each passing second he wonders if he made a mistake.

"We're kissing now," Mark finally says.

"What? No, we aren't." Lucas feels like he would know if he had been kissing Mark.

"We're kissing now," Mark repeats. There's a determined glint in his eyes, which is both extremely hot and extremely confusing.

" _Oh._ "

His nose brushes against Mark's as Mark closes in and Lucas meets his lips. Mark's mouth is soft, yielding open with a sigh when Lucas licks, dizzy with want, and presses in deeper.

Someone coughs again behind them, more deliberately. "That's nice, but could you do that somewhere else? It's a bit… distracting."

Mark's ears go brilliantly red and Lucas laughs sheepishly. "Sorry, sorry, we'll get going now."

The walk back to their dorm passes by a blur. Lucas feels like he's flying, carried along by the bubble of happiness in his stomach. It's hard not to laugh goofily over every silly thing, when Mark's hand is solidly in his.

They fall into each other as soon as they get to their room, door closing behind them with a bang. Mark clings to Lucas's shoulders, one of his legs twining around Lucas's to bring their bodies as close together as he can with their clothes still on.

"Can I?" Mark gasps between light fluttery kisses. Lucas isn't sure that Mark even knows what he's asking for, hands fisting into Lucas's sweater over his chest, but Lucas nods, shifting his weight so that Mark grinds further up his thigh. Mark's moan trails off into a whine as Lucas hoists Mark up, hands sliding up to support Mark's weight from below. He carries Mark easily to the bedroom while Mark throws off his jacket.

"Crash landing," Lucas warns before ducking down and safely depositing Mark onto the lower bunk. Mark laughs, tugging Lucas down with him and then shifting over so he can sit on Lucas.

"I'm okay with crashing into you," he says, leaning over Lucas's face in the cramped space between their beds. With some artful maneuvering they manage to get their clothes off in a pile on the floor until they're stripped down to their underwear, Mark still straddling Lucas's lap and their kisses growing increasingly wet and heavy.

"Wait, wait." Lucas pushes up again to reach up toward the side of the upper bunk.

Mark settles back on his heels, eyes narrowing when Lucas finishes rummaging between the mattress and the sideboard. "Hey, is that…" Lucas holds up the bottle of lube with a cheeky grin as Mark sputters in recognition.

"I thought it would come in handy," Lucas says. It had seem like a waste to just throw it away after only using it for the door.

Mark wets his lips. "Did you… with that?"

"No," Lucas says truthfully, but he does have something else to confess while he's being honest. "I thought about you, sometimes." Ever since week one, due to their unfortunate vaseline discussion. "In a non-creepy way!" he hurries to add. "I think…"

Mark squints at him. "So, like, in a good way or not?"

"A good way! A very good way." Lucas nods emphatically, but stops when Mark chokes, face turning red. "I meant—!"

"It's, it's cool," Mark says. He looks away, biting his lip. "I thought about you, too, sometimes," he admits and Lucas's chest fills with wonder. He cups Mark's cheek to turn his face forward again and kisses him, soft and encouraging.

Mark's hips are back to moving against Lucas in small, fitful movements. Lucas brushes his fingertips down the bare skin of Mark's back, teasing the waistband of his underwear. Mark tenses up and Lucas withdraws. "Sorry! Sorry."

"No, no. Don't." Mark swallows and Lucas watches, fascinated, as his adam's apple bobs up and then down. "Don't stop," Mark finishes, voice breaking at the end.

Lucas touches Mark again, slow and careful. His hands come to rest on Mark's hips and he rubs reassuring circles with his thumbs. "Show me how you do it?" he asks.

Mark nods and Lucas helps him push down his underwear. Mark picks up the bottle of lube to squeeze a generous amount into his hand. Eyes locked on Lucas's, he wraps his fist around his cock and begins moving. It's about the hottest thing that Lucas has ever seen and he bites back a groan.

Mark's flush spreads down his chest. "Do yours, too," he says. Lucas doesn't need to be told twice. He takes some of the extra slick from Mark's wet palm and shoves his right hand down his briefs to pull out his own dick.

"You're so big," Mark murmurs, almost off-hand, leaning forward to line up their cocks to compare. Lucas has to squeeze the base of his cock tight.

"Mark," Lucas says, reproachful. "Give a guy some warning." Mark giggles.

"Are you ready now?" he asks, eyebrow raised. As he grinds down, Lucas instinctively tightens his grip on Mark's hip, fingers digging into the soft curve of Mark's ass almost to the cleft. Mark's back arches and he lets out a punched-out moan.

Lucas swallows roughly. "This next part is, um, new to me."

"Oh." Mark sounds surprised and even a bit relieved. "Me, too. We can take it slow," he says firmly, which sparks another burst of warmth in Lucas.

"We could," Lucas says. He motions for Mark to lie down on his side with his back to Lucas. Mark obeys with a curious glance back over his shoulder at Lucas, but his gaze is open, trusting.

Lucas takes a moment to appreciate the view before he raises the leg on top and rubs a small amount of KY Jelly onto the inner part of Mark's thighs. He's heard about it vaguely, and hadn't thought much about it. It just hadn't seemed like a big deal to be humping someone's legs, but… Mark's thighs are soft and so, so smooth. Bringing Mark's legs back together, Lucas lies down behind Mark and slides his dick into the small gap between them. Each time he fucks into the tight slick press of Mark's thighs, he can feel fullness of Mark's balls and the heat of his firm cock.

"Is this okay?" Lucas asks into Mark's ear, lips grazing the delicate shell of cartilage.

"It's — I like it," Mark moans. "I like you."

They come quickly after that, first Lucas, then Mark with Lucas's hands running up the mess between Mark's thighs and then wrapping around Mark's cock.

"We should go out," Lucas says in his warm, post-coital glow (thigh sex counts, he decides, especially when the thighs are as pretty as Mark's are). They've strategically relocated to the top bunk, too lazy to clean up the dirty sheets on Mark's bed.

"Hm?" Mark blinks sleepily in Lucas's arms.

"On a date. Where we both dress up and eat dinner at a nice restaurant and make out afterward."

Mark mumbles something close to assent and Lucas brushes his hand against the short hairs at Mark's neck. They lie there quietly until Mark suddenly sits up. "Dude!" He shakes Lucas. "Was that… was that a date?"

"I dressed up," Lucas says. "Did you?"

Mark buries his face in his hands. "I can't believe I asked you out on a date and didn't even know."

Lucas plants a kiss at the top of Mark's spine. "It's okay, we'll go on more," he says mildly.

"Lots more," Mark promises and Lucas snuggles closer.

"Hello, Mark Lee," Renjun says, clear and un-pixelated for once on Lucas's computer screen.

"Um, hey!" Mark waves at the webcam with both hands and Lucas resists the urge to do something dumb like kiss him while Renjun's still on the line.

"I got your edits on my essay. They were really helpful. Thank you."

"Yeah, man, no problem," Mark says brightly.

They sit in an awkward silence after that and Lucas fidgets nervously. Renjun had asked to meet Mark, especially since Mark had also offered to look over his essay when he'd heard about Renjun's role in Lucas's confession, which Lucas had been eager to arrange. He doesn't necessarily need Renjun to approve, but they're both important to him in different ways. Lucas wants them to like each other.

"Did you know Lucas has been crying about his crush on you for months?" Renjun finally says.

"Really?" Mark glances up at Lucas who buries his face into Mark's back, embarrassed.

"I wasn't crying," Lucas says, voice muffled.

"Wailing, sobbing, lamenting in anguish over your polo shirts and _adorable_ sweaters," Renjun lists with relish. Lucas doesn't know why Renjun says he's been having so much trouble with descriptive writing when he seems to be doing fine just now. "Want to hear more?"

"It's okay," Mark tells Renjun, patting Lucas's hair. "Not if Lucas doesn't want me to."

Lucas props his chin up on Mark's shoulder, pouting. "Bro, I can tell you if you really want to know," he says.

"Oh?" Something shifts in Mark's gaze and Lucas smiles, warm and heavy with intent.

"Ugh, don't do that _in_ _front of me_ ," Renjun groans. Lucas cheerfully waves goodbye. Out of view, his other hand slides up Mark's thigh, squeezing, and Mark stiffens before his legs spread minutely. Something must show on their faces because Renjun turns pink and logs off with exaggerated gagging noises.

"So," Mark says in the silence. "Polo shirts?"

**Author's Note:**

> Bro, We Are Teens . Its Ok To Cry Around Me . Im Ur Best Friend . I Love You . ... Bro, We Are Kiss ing Now . . No Dont Stop Bro .. Bro ...
> 
> —[ @Babysnames](https://twitter.com/babysnames/status/570659289095802880?lang=en)


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